


Killing To Stay Alive

by killonpaper



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Other, i don't think this man has a medical license
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5056168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killonpaper/pseuds/killonpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dane was one of the few patients to stay in his ward room when the riot began. Still bound in his straight jacket, he backed into the furthest corner of the room and hope that he wouldn’t be spotted. That hope vanished when one of the variants stalking the hallway noticed him struggling to free himself from his restraints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dane was one of the few patients to stay in his ward room when the riot began. Still bound in his straight jacket, he backed into the furthest corner of the room and hope that he wouldn’t be spotted. That hope vanished when one of the variants stalking the hallway noticed him struggling to free himself from his restraints. At first, the variant appeared to be relatively harmless, but any ounce of innocuousness dissipated as soon as Dane noticed the piece of broken glass that the patient held in his hand. His vice-like grip had caused the sharp glass to cut into his fingers, a steady stream of blood flowing down his hand and dripping onto the tiled floor he stood on. The variant walked to where Dane had propped himself against the wall, helpless against what would follow. He straddled the short man, holding the glass to his face as a non verbal threat. 

“I know you, brown eyes. You look like one of us, but you’re not. Liar! You’re a doctor!” The patient growled, the blood from his hand dripping steadily onto Dane’s face.

“I’ll cut you up. I’ll make you purr.” He moved the glass from his cheek to just above his right brow. Pressing down firmly onto Dane’s pale skin, he began a deep cut, ending the incision just above his eyelid. Dane screamed through his teeth, his jaw held shut tightly by the variant’s vacant hand. 

“Shut up!” the patient snapped, yanking his jaw open forcefully as he moved the blood-streaked glass to his tongue.

“You shut the fuck up right now, before I cut that lying tongue of yours out.” Dane’s screaming died down quickly, replaced by heavy breathing and barely intelligible begging. 

“Oh god please, don’t do this, I can get you out of here, I can get you out just STOP!” Dane begged. He hadn’t wanted to show the variant that he was afraid of him. That had failed pathetically. The variant chuckled a deep, throaty chuckle before licking his lips, his bloodshot eyes locked onto Dane’s. 

“Bullshit, brown eyes. They tossed you in here with the rest of us. Guess that’s one thing me an’ Murkoff have in common, eh? We both wanna see you rot.” He moved the glass back to Dane’s face, holding his mouth closed again. 

“I’m gonna make you real pretty, brown eyes. Just you watch.” Dane clenched his eyes shut, bracing for the imminent pain. But it never came. He felt the variant’s grip on him lax, opening his eyes to see him slump over onto the floor, lifeless. A small amount of blood trickled from the variant’s open mouth, blood spreading from his chest, seeping into his patient’s scrubs and further staining the filthy black and white tile floor. 

Finally tearing his eyes away from the dead patient, Dane slowly looked up at the man towering over him. In front of him stood a tall, gaunt man wearing glasses, a tattered surgeon’s mask, and a bloodsoaked apron. A wave of familiarity rushed over him. He had been the man just a few rooms down from him. They’d shared passing glances, looks of understanding, but had never spoken. From what he had gathered, he was an ex-employee that had also been committed due to the effects of the Engine. Their similarities made him want to trust him, but judging from what the man in front of him had just done, he wasn’t so sure. 

His heart started to race again, panic clawing up his insides, squeezing his lungs as he began to hyperventilate. He needed to get away. Now. He backed himself into the nearby corner, trying and almost immediately failing to stand up. He fell over on his side, his head slamming into the nearby bed frame. A roaring sound resounded in his head, his vision blurring with dizziness. The last thing he saw was the man reaching for him, before his vision faded to black and unconsciousness overtook him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dane opened his eyes slowly, his vision still slightly blurry. He blinked, the blurs focusing into an irregularly flickering hospital light.

Dane opened his eyes slowly, his vision still slightly blurry. He blinked, the blurs focusing into an irregularly flickering hospital light. For a second, he thought that he might of made it out of Mount Massive, but this thought was crushed as soon as he took in his surroundings. He was still in the male ward as far as he could tell, though he could barely see what sort of room he was in due to the dim lighting. As he tried to sit up on the cold metal gurney, anxiety turned in the pit of his stomach yet again. He couldn’t move. He looked down at his torso, noticing the leather straps across his chest, arms, wrists, and ankles. He tried to scream, to yell for help, but the only sound that would come out was a hoarse whisper. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, he thought to himself as he strained to turn his head, searching for his new captor. A door clicked shut behind him, the sudden noise causing his muscles to tense up. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, furiously trying to blink them away. He wouldn’t show fear, not this time. 

“Awake, are ya buddy?” a voice to his right said. He turned to face the voice, but couldn’t see anything. Most of the room was bathed in darkness. Dane struggled weakly against the leather straps tying him to the gurney, going limp as he failed to make any progress.

“Hope you don’t mind the straps too much. Couldn’t have you wandering off now, could we… uh… what’s your name?” 

“Dane.” He said, his hoarse voice barely audible. He had lost it from all the screaming earlier.

“Huh? Didn’t catch that, buddy.” the voice retorted, the familiar sound of fingernails tapping on metal the only other sound in the room.

“Dane.” His voice cracked halfway through the name, and silence filled the hospital-like room once again.

“Well, we’ll save that for another time, I guess.” The oddly cheery voice answered back.

“Guess now’s a good time to take these straps off.” the voice continued. Dane felt the strap around his waist, legs, and upper arms loosen before falling to the sides of the bed. The ones around his wrists remained. He sat up to his best ability, his eyesight straining in the darkness, desperately trying to seek out his captor. Finally, a figure stepped into his field of vision. It was the same man that had killed that other variant earlier. The man that had saved his life, or at least he hoped so. But if that were the case, he’d of been freed now, wouldn’t he? 

“Listen, buddy, because I know you’re wondering why you’re here. I couldn’t just let that other guy kill you. No, you see, we’re pretty similar, you and I. Murkoff kicked me to the curb, and they did the same to you. Fucked us over, locked us up. We’re too... revolutionary for them. Now, seeing as how I saved your life earlier, I think you owe me, am I right?” He paused for a moment, taking Dane’s silence as a yes. 

 

“Things have been getting busy around here. Plenty of people to see, plenty of parts to sell. Hard to keep up with. I’ve been in need of a little helper. And then you prance along. We’re in the same boat here. So, what d’ya say?” He paused again, laughing to himself. 

“Not that you really have much of a choice.” Dane just wanted to get out of here. Like hell he’d stay with this guy, his savior or not. He’d probably end up like that other variant, impaled and then left to bleed out on the floor. Or worse. But he was right. He had no choice. If he ran, there’s no telling what else would be waiting for him. Staying with this maniac was his best bet to survival in the asylum. His left wrist restraint was loosened, and then the right. 

“Name’s Dr. Trager.” the man added as a sidenote, extending his slender, bony hand. Dane nervously took it, his hand tiny in comparison.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a few chapters of this pre-written, but I'll be staggering the uploads. Hopefully, I'll actually finish this and not lose interest. I hope you all liked it!


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